“Well done.”

The man standing beside her said quietly. Cordelia felt a surge of emotion. She had not forced down that bread in order to be praised by the likes of him.

Still seated, she turned and glared at him. He met that fierce look with an impassive expression.

“Now answer what I ask. Was this Michael’s doing?”

“Yes.”

“He finally… why, to make himself the new king?”

“Yes.”

“A bastard with no sense of his place, running wild. He doesn’t actually think he can hold a throne seized this way for long, does he?”

“That judgment is not mine to make.”

The ready compliance only made her more furious. Cordelia clenched her fists. Her neatly trimmed nails dug into her palms with a sharp sting.

“Then what becomes of me. Do they intend to kill me and my father?”

Ah, if only her voice hadn’t trembled. But even the most proudly composed princess could not remain entirely calm when faced with the threat of death.

The man blinked, looking as though he had heard something completely out of nowhere. He had lost count of how many times this princess had caught him off guard today. Cordelia had no way of knowing how rare it was for him to be unsettled like this.

“Kill you? No.”

“What?”

“What would Michael become if he killed you and His Majesty? Prince Michael has no intention of taking your lives.”

Michael’s decision not to kill his father and sister was not out of compassion but for the sake of his own reputation. There was no need to appear too ruthless from the start. The crime of killing one’s own blood in particular demanded a heavy price.

There would already be plenty of people whispering about a bastard seizing the throne by force, and he had decided not to invite further outrage by openly cutting down his own kin.

The blood already spilled was enough. Michael had drawn his lines carefully. His plan to use his sister as a hostage to coerce his father, and to marry that sister off to one of his subordinates, came from that same careful calculation.

That did not make the fate assigned to the princess any less harsh. The most faithful of Prince Michael’s subordinates gazed steadily at the princess and added in a low voice.

“His Majesty will abdicate to Prince Michael before long. And you, Princess, must marry and leave the palace.”

“What?”

“A husband has been chosen for you. The ceremony will likely take place in a few days. Given the circumstances, I’m told the exchange of gifts and the banquet will be omitted.”

“That… what do you mean… marry whom? Young Lord Rodrian?”

“His whereabouts are currently unknown. The one you will marry is me.”

Even as he said it, it felt unreal. That was precisely why Ian was able to state the fact so evenly. Never letting the complicated feelings that rose inside him whenever he looked at the princess show on the outside.

Cordelia stared at the man with a blank expression. She could not make sense of what she had just heard. Then, as understanding slowly dawned, her eyes twisted with a terrible fury.

“What did you say?”

“…You will marry me. Prince Michael has decided it.”

“Me, and you? I’m to marry the likes of you. The loyal hound of a bastard who committed treason.”

“He is about to become His Majesty the King. Please refrain from speaking ill of the Prince.”

“Ha, I’m supposed to refrain from calling that wretch a traitor, but I don’t have to refrain from calling you a dog? So you don’t even deny that you’re nothing more than a beast.”

“Beast or otherwise, I am to be your husband. I would advise you to refrain from speaking ill of me as well.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. Marry you? Do you think I’ll accept this? I already have a betrothed.”

“A betrothed whose fate is unknown, whether alive or dead. And a betrothal can always be broken.”

“On what grounds? How do you intend to break a marriage arrangement that has been made between our families for years?”

“You are a princess, and yet here you are, locked in this room. By the same logic, a mere betrothal can just as easily be undone. It isn’t even a marriage, just a betrothal.”

The man delivered those cutting words with perfect composure. As he had pointed out, the powerless princess locked in this room would have no choice but to marry whomever her half-brother decided. She would be helpless.

Even if she had already been a married woman, it likely would have made no difference. Her wicked brother would have had no qualms about forcing her into widowhood and then compelling her to remarry.

Should she be glad that the young lord’s fate was uncertain? Should she feel relief that she could not yet be certain her longtime betrothed was dead? The situation was too bleak for any of that. Grinding her teeth in anguish, she finally managed to speak.

“My father, does he know about this?”

“Even if he doesn’t yet, he will soon enough.”

Whether the king knew or not, nothing would change. The king himself was confined to his bedchamber, watched every moment by soldiers, and even if he learned of his daughter’s ordeal, there was no way for him to help her. At most he would grieve a little. A grief that was, practically speaking, useless.

Cordelia knew that too. Her father would of course object, but was there any way to stop this marriage?

Her half-brother was a lawless man who had defiled the palace with his soldiers’ boots and imprisoned his own father and sister. He would not bat an eye at the objections of those directly involved.

Cordelia was swallowed by a deep despair. A helplessness unlike anything before pressed down on her. Watching her fall into stunned silence, drained of even the strength to rage and hate, the man spoke to her quietly.

“I will arrange for you to see His Majesty soon. Hold on to that for now.”

Cordelia looked at him, speechless. He seemed to be worried that she might despair over her situation and attempt to take her own life.

But she had no intention of ending her life. No matter how deep the despair, she could not irresponsibly flee into death when her father was still alive and her betrothed’s fate was unknown.

Anyone who knew her well would have taken that for granted. But this man clearly knew nothing about her.

To assume she would crumble before an ordeal like this, she could see exactly how fragile he thought her to be. What a contemptible wretch.

And even if she were to attempt to take her own life, what business was it of his? He was a traitor’s hound. She could not bring herself to think he was simply a kind person worried about her.

Surely he wasn’t concerned that the princess he needed to marry and keep as a plaything might die too easily. The thought sent a chill through her chest. She fixed him with a venomous glare.

“Get out.”

She spat the words. She hadn’t said it expecting obedience. But the next moment, the man picked up the tray and turned and walked away without a word, and Cordelia was inwardly startled.

A moment later, the door closed. Left alone, Cordelia stared at the closed door in a daze. Then all the strength drained from her body and she slumped forward onto the table, burying her face in her arms.

‘Father…’

She squeezed her eyes shut and called out to her beloved family in her heart. She felt terribly lonely and afraid. The tears she had been forcing back out of pride crept up slowly and burned hot at the corners of her eyes.

It was a foretaste of the many tears yet to come.